


Dark Water

by grizzly_bear_bane



Series: David and Noah [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Blind Character, Domestic, M/M, New Orleans, Original Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-26
Updated: 2013-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-27 00:55:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/656241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grizzly_bear_bane/pseuds/grizzly_bear_bane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David and Noah get into a spat which leaves Noah home alone on the eve a major hurricane. Now he has no choice but to ride out the storm alone and in danger. Faced with the growing threat of death he must find the strength within to survive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> This was written years ago and is one of my first stories. Therefore, if it's shit, I apologize. By all means, I value and crave thorough critiques.

****

** **

“Noah, I told you to be careful! That was my mother’s favorite dish, it was older than the both of us,” David shouted as I heard his chair scrape loudly on the floor and his angry footsteps come towards me.

I hated it when he got stressed out.  It always resulted in making me nervous and clumsy more than usual, which equaled to me getting yelled at.  Now, with the big storm coming, his stress levels were through the roof.

I whispered my apology in the direction of my feet where he was currently cleaning up my mess, and pushed myself up against the wall behind me, and the probably spaghetti-specked refrigerator. 

“No, no, no,” David sighed. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m sorry for getting mad; besides, we both know how much I despise my mother.” He started to clean off my feet. “Did you burn yourself any, baby?”

I knew I should just stay out of the way and not worry about it like he told me to, but after breaking so many of his dishes, along with an array of other things, I couldn’t help but curse myself for being blind, for not being able to see, _again_ ; for not taking the time to feel out and make sure nothing was in front of the toaster before I pulled it out to the edge of the counter.  I deserved to have my bare feet and ankles spattered with mildly hot sauce and broken china. “No. I can do this myself, though.” I crouched down and took the wet cloth away from him.

“How do you even know where to clean? See? Look, you missed a spot.” He took the cloth back and resumed treating me like an invalid.

“Funny. I can tell when I am or am not clean, thank you,” I mumbled, but mostly to myself since I’d clearly missed a lot of spots.

“Oh yeah, I’m well aware that you can,” he muttered back, simply petting my legs with the cloth now, more than likely just to touch rather than clean.  “Especially after having to clean up yourself after we’ve… well, you know,” he teased.

“Is that all you think about, David, you _perv_ ,” I swatted his hands away to stand back up.

“Hang on a second, babe, I’m not done,” I could hear the smile in his voice, as he emphasized, “There’s spaghetti _allll_ over these pretty, long legs of yours,” in that odd, Southern drawl of his that I loved to listen to.

When he was finally done, he ordered me into the living room so he could wash the dinner dishes without further threat of plate destruction.  I found the couch without much difficulty; I’d gotten substantially more familiar with the layout of the house – but clearly not the china – since I’d moved in with David about a year ago.  It was a cozy, small one-story house, easy for me to get around in and open, nestled in the heart of Lakeview, New Orleans. 

One thing I could say for sure about living in this place, was that it was the complete opposite of life in Wyoming; for one, Wyoming never had severe hurricane scares. 

I turned on the TV – a good source of entertaining background noise – and found it already on the local news channel.  David had basically locked the TV to this channel almost a full week ago.  Apparently, this was supposed to be a very serious storm.

_“…At its most powerful level, Hurricane Katrina – now a category five storm – threatens to bring wide-spread destruction to coastal Mississippi and Louisiana. This storm is anticipated to impact the greater areas of the Golf Coast, which includes the city of New Orleans, whose metropolitan area rests at most six feet below sea level. The storm is expected to make landfall anywhere from five a.m. to eight a.m. tomorrow morning… We go now to our friend Steven, who is now stationed near the Superdome. Steven, what’s the update on street now…”_

I closed my eyes as David came to sit beside me on the couch and listened to the weatherman and anchorwoman go back and forth about the statistics and theories surrounding the storm named Katrina for almost an hour, completely intrigued by their conversations.  There was talk of last-minute evacuations and plans for repairs after the storm passed.  Most of it sounded pretty common sense; the things my family would prepare for if a tornado or something were coming.

“Hey, David? What’s a hurricane like?”

“What’s a tornado like,” he questioned back smartly, getting edgy again.  The news report of what the storm had already done to Florida didn’t sound very good at all.

“Well, I haven’t been in one since I was eight, but, it’s a lot of wind, loud… like standing next to a moving train, scary… especially when it sucks your house from off the ground like it did it to my aunt’s house.  We live really close to the mountains so the ranch stays mostly protected, but in town, I remember it being really bad.”

“Hm.” I could tell that I was pushing his buttons and I hadn’t meant to, but if we weren’t planning on avoiding this storm, I wanted, _needed_ to know what to brace myself for. “Well,” he started, “imagine all of what you just said, but with water instead of a bunch of dust, and add in a couple floods and more wind, and that’s basically it.” He turned up the volume of the TV.

“I think we should have left,” I muttered.

“And gone where, Noah?”

Good question.  At this point, every flight out of New Orleans had to be full – and I doubted my nerves were stable enough now to even get on another plane – and there was no way in hell David’s parents would let us stay with them, not if I planned on showing up.  If that were the case, surviving a hurricane would be a piece of cake compared to sitting through their bigot-fueled wrath, _again_. “Hey, David?”

“What?”

“What’s a flood like? Have you ever been in one before?” I touched his hand and he pulled it away, getting irritated.  He could be such a baby sometimes.

“Noah, I wish you would take this seriously.”

“What are you talking about? I am. Hello, I live here too, and I’d just like to know what it is I’m getting myself into. Forgive me for being blind, and for growing up in a place with no coastlines and hurricane threats. It’s not like I can just ‘look it up’ online and see what it is.”

“Fine. Sorry.” He finally calmed down. “Okay, think about this room, the chair we’re sitting in.”

I sat back again and thought about how the air circulated the space, which places I usually bumped my knees on, the fiber of the couch, the curtains, “Okay?”

“Now imagine all of that being under anything from, say, ankle-deep water to muddy, debris-filled, possibly toxic water that consumes you instantly. Oh yeah, and if you ever get stuck in the later – which is almost impossible thanks to the levees up everywhere – and don’t know how to swim, you’re drowning,” he finished crudely and turned off the TV, standing up. “I’m not much for company tonight, babe, I’m going to bed. Good night, Noah.”

I jumped up after him. “Hey wait! Why are you getting pissy at me, I didn’t do anything. I thought you said the dish was no big deal!”

I rounded the corner to the bedroom and ran into his back, knocking him forward a few steps.  I didn’t apologize.

“Just stop, Noah. I’m tired; leave me alone.” He sounded overly exhausted to prove his point. “It’s not a crime to be irritated or pissed off.” 

“It is when you take it out on me! All I did was ask you a couple questions. I’m sorry if it’s a bad storm, but I mean, I’m scared too. It was just a question.”

“A _dumb_ question. Noah, a huge hurricane is coming, like, tomorrow, and _now_ you ask this shit? How is it you finished college without knowing what the hell a damned flood is!? I mean, I know you can be immature sometimes, but not dumb. If you want me to stop being stressed out, stop annoying me. That’s all I ask, now can we please just go to bed, or _something_?” 

Something lightweight hit me in the chest.  I bent down to see what it was.  David had thrown his shirt at me.  How very mature.

I knew where this was coming from; David was scared and felt trapped in a corner by the threat of his house getting damaged or blown away.  When the college loans and bills came in, or when he’d have a fight with his mother, who lived a million miles away in the French Quarter, about him being with me, he’d get mean like this.  It was a normal reaction I’d grown used to.

But it didn’t make what he’d said hurt any less.

I turned to leave the room.  I didn’t need to put up with this; I’d sleep on the couch if I had to.  And when the water-tornado destroys the living room and I drown in a toxic flood, he’ll only have his childish temper to blame and keep him company at night.

Well, at least I _tried_ to leave, until my foot got caught in his shirt and it tripped me up, bringing me to the ground hard.  Classic exit.

I could feel David trying to pick me up in a panic, before nothingness. “Noah! Oh my god, are you okay!? Shit, you’re head’s bleeding! Noah? Noah…” 

* * *

I woke up about five minutes later lying on the bed with a killer headache and a sore leg. “What happened?” Feeling groggy, I could hear David rummaging around for something in another room.  I moved to the edge of the bed and tried to get up. “David?”

“Stay on the bed, you’ll get blood in your eye!”

“What!?”

“I think you might have twisted your ankle a little. You caught the coffee table on your way down; you got a nasty cut over your eye.” He hurried back to the bedroom and went into the joined bathroom.

“What are you doing in there?” I winced as I touched the cut, fingers coming away wet.

David continued to search the bathroom, while I sat and waited. “Damn it, of course we don’t have anything we need.” He whined, and knelt beside me, dabbing at the bleeding cut. “I blame myself for this.”

“David, it’s not your fault. I’m clumsy. Shit happens like this all the time. Get over it, already.”

“It _is_ my fault. I’m such a jerk. Damn it, it’s already raining; I forgot to restock the first-aid kit and I can’t take you the hospital for stitches this late. Not in this crazy weather,” he sighed, completely crestfallen now.

I reached for his hands to stop him from fussing over me so much and held then, trying to calm him down. “It’s okay, David, I’m okay. I just need some painkillers and sleep and I’ll be fine. We’ll go when the storms over, okay?”

“No. I caused this; I need to fix it. It’ll get infected if we leave it open, and its too deep… Noah, we don’t have any more painkillers, or antibiotics here. I’m going to have to go out somewhere, and get some. If I’m lucky I can get to one of the shelters or something and get some medical supplies.”

“Wait. What? No, no, no, I’ll be fine, you shouldn’t go out now.” Once again I reached for him and he moved away.  I tried to get up after him, but I got dizzy and had to stop trying to move.  David was making a terrible mistake, and he wasn’t listening to reason right now.  I felt helpless to stop him as the rain and winds picked up outside and my legs felt like lead.

“Listen, I’ll only be out for an hour and then I’ll be back and we can go to bed, okay? You won’t even notice I’m gone before I get back, okay? Don’t worry about me; I’ll be fine.”

Without so much as a hug or goodbye, he left me.

He left me.

Alone in the house.

After being here a whole year, he’d never done that before; always making sure I was at least with someone who could watch after me when he wasn’t able to be here, always afraid something would happen and I’d need help, always making sure that we were together as much as possible…

Now here I was, sitting on the bed holding a cloth to my bleeding forehead waiting for him to come back home to me.

Thirty minutes past as my watch announced the time.

Then an hour.

Then two hours.

I could hear the wind rustling angrily outside as the rain beat against the windows.  An uneasy feeling came over me.  _What’s taking him so long to get back?_   I got up tentatively to search for my cell phone. 

When I called David’s number, it rung twice before the annoying ringtone went off somewhere from the other side of the bed.  I kept it ringing until I could reach it, hand bumping into his wallet along the way.

I counted to ten to calm my nerves, then to one hundred, but it didn’t work.

He’d left without saying goodbye, without his wallet, without his phone, without me.  Which meant that he could literally be stranded anywhere right now, without any way of calling for help.  _Or, maybe…_ No, he wouldn’t do this on purpose.  I mean, this is David.  He would never do that to me.  He wouldn’t leave me here alone in all this.

But, then again…

As the wind and rain grew stronger still, I had a terrible feeling David wouldn’t be coming home back tonight…

* * *

I drifted out of sleep a few hours later, halfway sitting and laying on top of the bed to what sounded like a train running right outside the house. “David?”

No answer.

The cut on my forehead had finally stopped bleeding, but my headache persisted.  The windows were rattling violently and the air felt too thick.  I got up and limped out, feeling my way carefully to the kitchen, and opened the small window over the sink to let out some of the pressure.  Wind and rain instantly attacked me, it sounded like bombs were exploding down the street.  I wasn’t sure whether to reclose it or not, but figured I’d keep it open just in case, figuring that if the hurricane sounded as if it were already tearing off pieces of siding and shingles, a little rain inside the house wouldn’t hurt it anymore.

 _Where the hell is David?_ Was he on his way back? And if not, did he have a safe place to stay? I couldn’t tell what was happening outside, but knew it would be impossible and way too dangerous to drive in this wind. 

When I opened the refrigerator it felt only mildly cool, which meant the power must have been out for a while.

There was nothing else I could do at that point but go back to the bedroom.  I felt utterly helpless.  I couldn’t call David, there weren’t any neighbors’ houses to flee to, I didn’t know anyone that well in the neighborhood; the small group of friends I’d made here were really all David’s friends, and they all lived on the other side of town, which is hopefully were David was right now.  Maybe he’s with Sarah… or… _that guy he meet at that party at Sarah’s place_ … No. He’s with Sarah. Hopefully.

I sat on the edge on the bed pathetically holding David’s phone and wallet as the wind continued to assault the house.  I couldn’t convince myself as easily as I should that David was coming back.  I had to be honest with myself; it wasn’t just the storm that had him stressed.  It seemed like ever since I’d moved here, our relationship had been going on a rollercoaster for us.  At first, I hadn’t thought moving in would be a good idea; that sooner rather than later, he’d get tired of constantly having to take care of me, of cleaning my messes, of giving up so much for me.  But he had convinced me to stay.  Now, here I was, constantly getting yelled at by his family, constantly fighting back, and apologizing to David for being so clumsy, and here he was, gone. 

But it wasn’t all bad all the time, though; far from it.  We’d had just as many great moments as bad.  I was sure he loved me as much as I loved him, as much as we’d been through together in just this first year… but now I wasn’t sure of anything.

It didn’t make any sense.  If he wanted to break up with me, fine.  But why leave me in _his_ house, with a huge bleeding cut on my forehead, in the middle of a _hurricane_?  He could be a jerk sometimes, but… he couldn’t be that mean.  He _wasn’t_ that mean, he was an angel, for Christ’s sakes, but I couldn’t control my self-esteem, couldn’t focus on everything else going on in my head when my ears felt like they were going to explode the next time the wind blew something else down—

Something rumbled loudly outside and snapped very close to the house.  I jumped up.  Now would be a great time to have working eyes.  When I’d been in Wyoming, I’d always been with family during the storms there.  Hell, all my life, I’d been with _someone_ who could tell me what was happening… I didn’t know what to do now.  I thought about calling my parents back home, but quickly remembered why – in spite of whatever was going on outside – that wouldn’t work; they would complain and yell for waking them up, then tell me this is what I deserved for leaving them and moving here so far away from them, that they missed me and love me, and then hang up after saying goodnight to David and I. _I’m screwed._

I dropped his things back on the bedside table and lay back down, giving up.  There was nothing else I could do now but wait until the morning.

 


	2. Part II

 

** **

I woke up with a start as David’s alarm clock went off around nine-thirty the next morning.  Groaning inwardly, searching for the clock. I turned it off and rolled over, attempting to go back to sleep.  Last night had been horrible and all I wanted now was to sleep and forget it all.  I extended a sleepy arm over to David’s side of the bed, looking for a warm body to snuggle up to.

I sat up again quickly as I remembered what had actually happened last night.  It sounded as if the storm was still going on strong outside, and by the sound of the wind, seemed to be getting stronger, not weaker, than what it was the night before.

“David?” Still no answer.

I swung my legs off the side of the bed, but recoiled them quickly as my feet touched wet carpet.   _What the hell?_   I stepped back down on the floor carefully.  The carpet was soaked and I could hear water off in the distance under the constant barrage of heavy, booming noises coming from the hurricane outside.

“David?” Had he come back sometime while I was asleep?  Maybe he was still upset and not talking to me? “Did you leave the water running somewhere?  The floor’s wet…” I got up and limped to the dresser to find pants, but decided that finding the source of the water needed to be taken care of first.

The hardwood floor was covered in a thin layer of water in the living room as well, like standing in the shower after the spray had been turned off waiting for the rest of the water to drain out. “David, at least let me know if you’re here or not!” 

My hands ran across the wall to the TV stand.  I tried to turn it on to see if the power was back on.  Still nothing.

Taking a deep, calming breath I headed to the kitchen, but stopped when I heard my phone ringing back in the bedroom.  Stumbling over what seemed like every piece of furniture in the house in my rush to get to the phone, I reached it right before it went to voicemail.  “Hello!?” My heart almost beat out of my chest.

“Oh, thank god, Noah! I’m sorry; I don’t have much time. Are you okay?”

“David!?” I almost couldn’t believe it. “Where the hell are you, you scared me to death, you  _ass_!”

I could hear a large group of people yelling and arguing in a panic in the background.

“Noah, I’m so sorry, I was so upset last night… I drove around looking for any place that was opened and ended up on the other side of town and without my wallet and everything… By the time I decided to give up and come back, the bridge was closed so I went to Anna’s house, and then this morning I tried again, but everything’s blocked out or full of water; I can’t get back over there, I can’t even go back to Anna’s; I’m stuck in this shithole of a ‘relief’ center… everything’s down, trees, tons of people’s houses, whole neighborhoods, I had to borrow someone’s phone because, like an idiot I left that too.”  He finally stopped to breath.  His voice was trembling, like he was either crying or about to pass out. “Baby, sweetheart, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have left you alone, but I panicked.  I’m such an idiot.  Please, tell me you’re okay, I don’t care if the house is fine or not, just tell me you’re safe, tell me the water hasn’t reached you yet.”

 _Water?_  Water. On the floor. “David… I… um…” My heart dropped into my stomach as my head started to ache again.

_Don’t panic, maybe it’s from something else… please don’t panic._

“Noah? You there? What’s wrong?”

“Please tell me you left the water running in the sink last night, or something,” I whispered, walking closer to the kitchen where I heard the water.

“What? No, I turned it off, I… oh shit.”

“David, the floor is wet. I hear water running, did you do that?”

The phone was silent except for the constant chaos going on wherever David was.

Finally he spoke again in a calm voice. “Noah, I need you to listen and not panic, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good. Okay, calm down. The water could be coming from a hole in the roof, or something else that can be fix. Now, where are you?”

“The kitchen.”

“I need you to go to the basement and tell me how high the water is.”

“David, what—”

“Noah, listen and do as I say.”

I carefully walked over wet tile so I wouldn’t slip. There was no water running in the kitchen sink. When I got to the creepy basement, it smelt funny, like…

My foot slipped on the first step down and I stumbled into water up to my knees.

“Noah? What happened?” David was frantic.

“David, shit, there’s water in the basement—” I was cut off by the front door making a terrible groaning sound.  I paused in the foyer on my way over it to, forgetting for a moment that David was on the other end of the call.  What had made me slip was the water running from the foyer, under and away from the door, quickly over my feet, and down the six steps into the basement. “Oh god…” The door felt like a wet, wooden rubber band with how it was bending and warping, water sneaking in from all around its frame under the doorknob.  I got away from it quickly.

“Noah? Noah! Where are you?”

“In the kitchen. David, the door, it’s… and the basement… I slipped and the water came to… my knees.”

David got quiet again while someone in the background reported that more levees were breaking. Breaking, bending? Was that supposed to be happening!?

David started arguing with someone near him. “Listen lady, I have to get across that damn bridge! You have to open this gate. Please, my boy—my brother—is blind and alone in the house; I have to get to him now!” She argued back with him, refusing, before he shouted, as many other people around him did, “Why won’t you help me!?” He took a deep breath into the phone. “Noah, the house is flooding. The lake overtook the 17th Street Canal. I need you to…”

I didn’t hear the rest.  My brain shut down.  I froze.  The house was flooding.  Suddenly the horrible feeling I’d conjured up last night of me sitting on the couch under toxic, muddy water came back.  “No, no, no, no, David, that can’t be happening. You said… that couldn’t happen, you said… People drown in floods! I don’t want to drown!”

“Wait, Noah, calm down, it’s going to be okay! Just calm down!”

“Calm down!? You left me alone in the middle of a category  _five_  hurricane and now the house is  _flooding_ , and I don’t even know what the hell do… I’m going to die!”

“No you’re not, Noah! Stop yelling! Listen, just forget what I said last night, okay, that doesn’t always happen.”

“Are you kidding me!? The  _levee’s_  broken… And the water’s getting higher in here!” I had to calm down; if I hyperventilated and passed out, I’d only drown for sure. “Oh God, what am I going to do, David?”

“Noah, it’s okay, don’t cry, look, I’m going to get you through this okay? Just listen to me and I’ll get you someplace safe. Now, how high is the water in the kitchen?”

“My ankles.” Toxic water.  _Breathe, Noah._

“Climb up on the counter. There could be anything in the water and I don’t want it making you sick.”

I pushed the toaster out of the way and did as he said, feeling a little better to be on a dry surface. “What do I do now?”

“Okay, let me think… Do you remember where I keep the tools and the first-aid kit?”

“Um, they’re on top of the refrigerator, I think.”  _Not an odd place at all to keep such things_ , I supposed, trying to distract myself.

“Great… now, Noah, promise me you will not freak out, okay… There should be a sledgehammer and a fire extinguisher behind the larger, plastic toolbox, can you check for me?”

I stood up on the counter and felt around for it. “They’re here.”

“Okay, now I need you to get the hammer and bust a hole in the ceiling.”

“WHAT!?” 

Suddenly a loud noise shook me from the foyer, knocking the phone out of my hands.

I quickly jumped off the counter to search for the phone in the water.  I couldn’t loose that phone, not now!  Pieces of wood got in my way several times as more water quickly began to fill the house.  Finally wrapping my hands around it I prayed it still worked. “David!?” No response.

I climbed back on the counter and searched for the redial with shaky hands.   _There’s the circle with the etched arrows, the square Clear button, where is Send?_   The noise was overwhelming me; I needed to focus.  Finally I heard the phone come back to life and start ringing again. “David!?”

 “Noah! Oh god, what happened!?”

“The front door just exploded into a million pieces in the kitchen; the water’s rising too fast!”

“You need to get into the attic and onto the roof! Climb onto the fridge and keep knocking the ceiling out!”

Water was starting to cover the counter.  I thought making sure that the drain in the sink was unplugged would maybe help in some way, but found to my horror that water was coming up from out of the drains as well.  I climbed onto the refrigerator, phone in one hand, heavy sledgehammer in the other, as I pushed the other boxes and things away to get more room. 

At first the ceiling would not give.  Instead of panicking, I put the phone in my mouth, carefully, fearing if I put it down I may not find it again.  I tried hitting the ceiling again, covering myself with dust as the hammer went through the plaster.  I keep pushing the hammer up, making sure the hole got wider.

I didn’t even notice my boxers getting snagged by the jagged edges of ceiling plaster and wood as I held the phone still between my teeth and took the hammer up into the attic with me.  I stopped short, confused.  The floor felt… unusual, like there was no floor at all.  Instead of a hard, flat surface I felt something akin to…cotton candy?  “David? I…I got in. Now what do I do?”

“Good, Noah, now listen carefully. There’s a vent on the roof that should be about three feet away from you; can you feel it?”

I paused for a moment to try to figure out how to get to it.  Luckily, the heavy winds from outside were pushing in a heavy draft.  “Yeah, I feel it. I think.”

“Okay, now you have to be careful. I need you take your time, and stay on the wooden beams. Do not touch anything else okay?”

“Wooden beams?” I felt the beams… and more soft, fluffy stuff. “What is this?  Where’s the floor?” I picked up some loose fibers; it didn’t feel right.

“No, no, no, Noah, stay on the beams. Don’t touch the insulation; it’s fiberglass. It’ll hurt your hands. Stay on the beams to avoid it.”

 _Okay.  Hard beams, good; soft, fluffy insulation, bad.  Look for vent._ I carefully started moving towards the source of the wind, first feeling for the boards, then pulling the heavy hammer with me as I crawled.  Slowly, carefully.

Of course, as fate would have it, not careful enough. “OWW!! Shit!” My knee lit up in pain as something small, long, and sharp pierced my knee and pulled as I tried to get away from it, bumping my head on something hard sticking out from the ceiling.

“Noah!? For god’s sake, people will you shut up, I can’t hear! Noah? What’s happened?”

“I think my knee hit a nail, or a splinter,” I moaned, my head and knee throbbing, “God, that hurts.” My hands started to burn, irritated from when I lost my balance on the beam and touched the fiberglass insulation.

I tried to keep calm as blood ran down my leg, now using the hammer to help feel my way forward.  I could not lose track of what I needed to do and where I was.  I could still hear the water splashing around underneath me, violently, as the wind and rain still carried on all around me.  I had to get out to the roof.  I pushed the hammer across the wooden beans in front of me, using my free hand afterwards to steady my injured leg.

After what seemed like a lifetime of searching, I found the vent.  The boards under me groaned and felt different from the others, lighter somehow, slightly sinking as I put my weight over them, but I couldn’t afford to pay that any mind now; I was finally going to escape. “Okay, got it. How do I get the vent open?”

“It easy, baby, just slide the top—” 

I never heard the rest. 

Before I could even register the boards giving way under me, I was already plunging into the water as it was coming up to meet me at the ceiling. 

I knew I was going to die even before I felt too many hard and sharp, heavy things push in and around me; before the cable cord got tangled around my banged-up legs and water filled my lungs.  My eyes and throat burned as I tried to scream, but it was too late.

I could not swim.  Ever.  I had never felt the need to learn.

My lungs were burning as I continued to sink to the floor I knew had to be waiting for me.  Even under the water, I could still hear so many sounds, as the furniture collided and scraped each other in the current.  A flat object crashed against my chest, knocking out whatever air I was lucky enough to still have in me. 

I tried to pray for an easy death, but I couldn’t, mind always going back to David, to my family.  Did they all know I was dying?  Could they feel it?  I hoped not.

I fought the water.  _Kick, kick, kick…_

Why was I even trying?  I’m sure David would feel guilty for a while, but afterwards, he’d only be relieved to be free of me at last.  I’m sure my family already felt the same, having me finally out of their hair with me all the way here.

I tried moving my arms to push me upward, using my legs to push the objects away and off of my now battered body.  _Kick, kick, kick…_

I couldn’t stop thinking about my parents.  Would they have my body shipped back home, or would they just have me buried here?  What would my body even look like after being underwater for so long, crushed under all of this… I’m sure they would be upset, especially since funerals are so expensive these days.

I kept fighting the water. _Kick, kick, kick…_

My head bumped against something flat and solid, my back pressed against it too, from another angle… I reached out a hand and caught a piece of cloth, immediately restoring my hope.  It was the curtain to the living room window, it had to be, which meant… I was close to the hole in the ceiling.

I used the curtain to pull me forward and to keep me from being pushed further by the water.  Regardless of what waited for me outside this house, after this storm, I would deal with it alive.  I couldn’t give up now, not this close.

My hand caught a torn piece of wood; this was it.  I let go of the curtain and grabbed the board with both hands as I hoisted myself up and over it, into the attic.

The jagged tip of the board violently pierced my hip as I pulled myself over the boards.  I was relieved when air rushed out of my lungs instead of water, even if it rushed out in a cry agony.  The pain was almost unbearable, but the spike served its crude purpose of keeping me propped from the waist up, halfway in the attic, halfway out of the violent water.

I felt for the vent again.

My body was shaking, most likely going into shock.  My skin felt cold and clammy, yet sweat still mixed with the water running off of me. 

I could have sung my praises to the heavens if my throat wasn’t raw, when the vent finally gave way and the wind from outside rushed in full force to meet me.

I took a breath and slowly dislodged myself from the spike of wood, growing light-headed and nauseous at the thought of bleeding to death in the attic.  Even if I couldn’t separate the feeling of blood pouring out of me from the water rising past my waste, I knew I needed to get help very soon.  I was losing too much blood and energy; I’d either pass out and drown now, or bleed to death later.

I had to keep trying.

I used the last of my strength to pull myself higher out of the vent. 

More pain shot up my leg as the cord around my ankle tightened, refusing to let me go any further than my chest outside the attic.  I searched as far I could for something to hold onto outside, discarding the loose shingles, hand grabbing hold of the satellite dish’s cable I remembered being on the roof.

I wrapped it several times around my wrist, resting my tired arms on the roof.

I had finally made it. 

Well, almost.

 


	3. Part III

 

** **

By the time the water stopped rising I couldn’t feel the lower half of my body anymore.  My skin felt clammy and hot now, my throat raw.  Every so often the wind would push a wave of water further up the roof and into the vent with me.  It was already up to my chest now as my strength began to fade and my body sunk further back into the water; my arms were growing weaker still.  But, I couldn’t complain about the wind, as it blew cool air over my burning, soaked skin whenever I needed it the most.

From time to time, I could hear other people off in the distance.  Someone would cry out on the left, others were calling for help on the right, but it seemed as if they were all miles away.  I wondered where David was now, hoping he was safe, and dry; maybe he had managed to get back with some of his friends and had a safe place to rest.

The temperature and wind were growing hotter.  I wish I could rest; my body was exhausted.

I tried to move my leg again, but the cord pulled, keeping me trapped still mostly in the flooded attic.  I wondered if anyone could see my hands from where they were, probably trying to hold on like me.

More wind blew, growing less violent with every new movement of air.  I couldn’t suppress the yawn that overtook me.  I was dead tired.  _The satellite cord’s strong, it should keep you out of the water if you fall asleep,_  my body told me, as it started to relax against my will.  But my mind countered,  _But what if it isn’t and you slip underwater asleep, and drown?_

I gave the cord a good tug, happy that it felt as strong as I’d hoped.  _See? You can go to sleep now. You’ll need that energy for whatever comes next._ It was too much of a good idea to refuse. 

I just hoped I’d be able to awake up afterwards… I tugged the cord again, just to make sure.

* * *

It felt like I had slept for days, constantly drifting in and out, always disoriented, always forgetting for a few short minutes why I was here, feeling more tired than before.  My arms were losing their circulation, mouth dry, body feeling empty. 

It was hot as Hell now, no more cool wind.

It didn’t sound like anyone else was around anymore.  No more shouting, no more calling out for lost loved ones, nothing.  Just the hot wind, the quiet waves, and me.

Maybe I should just let go; it didn’t feel like there was supposed to be more to mine and David’s plans of escape.  I would not be able to hold this cord until the water went down.  There was nothing left, no other options…

 _Just loosen the thin cord and let your heavy body do the rest._   It sounded like another good idea.  I  _had_  tried as I’d promised; now it wasn’t necessary any longer.  I tried unwrapping my hand, but the cord would not untangle.  I tried yanking it off frantically, but still it would not give.

If I wanted to die, I would just have to hope the water was high enough for me to drown still hanging from the vent.  It would look unusual to whoever found my body later, but I could deal with that.  Of course, as my luck had continuously surprised me, when I lowered myself back down, the water stopped at my chin.  Well, so much for that… I would just have to suffer until I died of blood loss, hunger, or perhaps maybe shock, if I got really lucky.

* * *

I drifted back into consciousness again to a strange sound coming from above me.  The wind had changed its course, and now was curiously blowing down hard  _towards_  me rather than around me.  It sounded like a helicopter from a show on TV David liked.  Maybe I had finally started hallucinating?  Maybe that was a good sign, that I was finally starting to die?  The water was making me feel murky and I couldn’t stand its stagnate smell anymore, so I once again I pulled my head and shoulders up out of the vent for air.

Something very heavy dropped on the roof beside my head with a thud.  Afraid of being crushed by it I quickly dropped my head back into the attic.

“Oh shit, kid, come back up here,” a deep and gruff voice ordered above me.

What the hell was going on now!?   _No!  You need to fight it off!  You’re trying to die, remember?_

A large hand grabbed my hair and my loose arm, pulling me upward.

I screamed out loud for the first time in ages as I felt the cord twist angrily around my foot and ankle and my hair being pulled.  “No, please let me go!”

The man released me slightly and the pain subsided.

“You okay, kid? How you feeling? What’s your name?”

“Um, Noah, I guess…” I couldn’t begin to explain how I felt. “What’s going on; who are you? Why are you in my dream, I don’t know your voice. Go away.” 

“Noah? This isn’t a dream, son, you’re getting out of here, okay? I’m Jim. I’m here to get you out of this hole, now. Can you tell me what’s holding you in the water? I keep trying to pull you out, but it’s not working too great. Where’s the pain coming from? Where are you stuck?”

“I… There’s a cord wrapped around my leg… Um, my knee and side hurt.  I don’t know if they’re bleeding anymore or not…” I started getting dizzy and sleepy again as I calmed down more, realizing that I hadn’t been talking to myself all this time.

A walkie-talkie went off close to my head, “Susie, I need some backup down here; a cord’s wrapped around the boy’s leg in there and I can’t get him out.  He’s bleeding as well, so be ready for other injuries when we get up there.”

_“Roger that, Jim.”_

A minute later, water slashed nearby, spraying more water my way along with the winds from the helicopter.   _What was going on now?_

“I can’t take anymore of this…” I muttered, unaware I had said anything aloud.  “Jim, am I being rescued?”  It still didn’t seem possible.

“You’ll be out of here as soon as that cord is cut. Now, I need to check your vital signs to make sure everything else is okay. Can you see me, do you have any chemicals in your eyes?”  He checked my pulse and breathing.

I shook my head groggily to get his hand away from my face as he tried to open my eyes.  “I’m blind, it’s natural; I’m okay…” I closed my eyes again and tried to go back to sleep.

“No, Noah, you need to stay awake for me so I can keep an eye on you, okay?”

I think I nodded, yes, laying my head on his solid, strong arm.  It felt too good to be true that he was here, or anyone else, that I really wasn’t just having a nice dream before my body sunk underwater.  But here he was, holding onto my arms and talking to me softly.

The cord tightened slightly and a hand wrapped around my ankle.  I screamed again, knowing this had to be a dream now.

“Easy Noah, calm down.  Tell me when you can move your leg; concentrate on that for me, okay?” He turned the walkie-talkie on again, “Susie, tell Alex to be careful with the kid’s leg down there, he’s injured, remember?”

The hand pulled me down an inch and then the cord began to loosen.  Hands traveled up my legs and pushed me up closer to Jim.  As the hands went away, Jim wrapped his arms around me and pulled me completely out the attic and onto the roof.

“There we go,” he sighed, relieved that the job was almost done.

I couldn’t believe it.  I was finally out of the water now and lying upside down on the battered roof, knowing I had to look worse. 

A blanket was wrapped around me and Jim lifted me gently into a small, cold, and padded metal basket.

“Alright, Susie, lift him up.”  Jim patted my forehead.  “You’ll be just fine now.”

Wind blew constantly around me, like it was trying to push me back down into the water, as I was lifted into the air, closer to the helicopter I’d heard earlier but hadn’t known was for here for my rescue.

The basket stopped moving as others pulled it into the helicopter.  Surrounded in dry warmth and feeling safe for the first time in too long, I gave in to my body’s exhaustion once more and drifted off to sleep.

*** * ***

_Beep, beep, beep, beep…_

“…Noah?  You awake in there, sweetie?”

 _Whose voice is that?_   “Mmm… No.”

Laughter by my ear, “Yes, you are silly.”

“Where am I?”  My voice sounded raw and pitiful to my ears.

A familiar hand ran its fingers through my hair, caressed my cheek.  “We’re in a hospital in Abilene… How are you feeling, Noah?”

“David…” I reached out a hand and he caught, holding it to his face.  His chin felt rough like he hadn’t shaved in a week.  My heart melted a little.  I opened my mouth to speak again, but no words came.   _What do I say to my lover after all that had happened between us? Hello? How’s the weather?_

He adjusted my pillows; the bed sunk a bit as he lay down beside me.  “I’ve never been more happier in my life to hear your voice, babe, even if it sounds horrible.”

“What happened?  I fell asleep on the… Where are we?” I asked again.

“The coast guard found you in the roof halfway underwater and unconscious; you’d been hanging up there I guess about two days.  The hospital at home is in bad shape and you had lost a lot of blood, so they flew you out here to Texas.  You’ve been asleep for about three days now.”

“How did you find me?”

“The help center I’d got stuck in told me they were shipping people here and a couple other places, so me and Anna started looking and soon enough… They didn’t tell us whether they were shipping dead bodies or living people here, but I knew you had to have made it… I couldn’t allow myself another option.” He held my hands, sniffling quietly.  “Anna and Todd’s house was literally the only one of ours not damaged, but they won’t let us go back yet, so she’s looking with her brother for a place for us all to stay here until then… Are you comfortable?”

“I’m okay.  David, I’m sor—”

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry for.  If anything, I’m surprised you’re even still speaking to me after all I put you through, but then again, you’ve always had a heart big enough for the both of us, so…” he paused his rambling.

I shifted a little, my body still feeling terrible under the bandages and casts, but better than before, kissing David’s hand as he cried silently to himself.  

“I thought I’d lost you… So many times, I thought I’d never get to see you again,” he whispered.

“Me too.  I even thought I should… Almost,” I stopped, suppressing the memory of my failed attempts at suicide.

“I could have died myself when you stopped answering the phone… You were  _underwater_ … I almost lost you.”

The room stayed silent for a long time, with only the constant beeping coming from my left. “David?”

“Yes, sweetheart?  Anything you want.”

“I think… Let’s not fight so much anymore…”

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.  Anything else?”

“Let’s move to Wyoming?” I suddenly couldn’t bare the thought of ever going back to New Orleans ever again.

He laughed quietly.  “No hurricanes, huh?  That sounds good, too.”

“My family’s crazy, but a lot nicer than yours anyway,” I continued to ramble freely under the influence of painkillers and other medications, I was sure.

“Noah?”

“Hm?” I turned my face towards his voice. “What’s wrong?”

“I love you,” he whispered.

I smiled, yawning as I started to relax again under the heavy medication, “I love you, too, David.  I love you, too.”

 

**THE END**

 

 

 


End file.
